


Mi baci bene

by violetpeche



Series: Yes I'm Changing [4]
Category: NCT (Band), WAYV
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Rough Kissing, Surprise Kissing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-04 22:46:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 4,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18822307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetpeche/pseuds/violetpeche
Summary: A collection of kissing drabbles posted on my Twitter





	1. Intro

I posted a series of drabbles, each one with a pairing inspired by a specific type of kiss, on my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/johntographique) over the past month. I spent more time on them than I initially anticipated (but never too, too long/beyond one sitting), so I decided to round them all up and put them into a little collection on my Ao3! These were a lot of fun to do, and I'm definitely considering putting up another round of prompts on my Twitter in the future, so keep your eyes peeled!

I've combed through the original posts I put up on my Twitter, and fixed them up to post here. There might be a few minor changes to them. This first "chapter" of the series is here to outline the prompts I filled. You can reference the original Tweet with the types of kissing prompts [here](https://twitter.com/johntographique/status/1123503779473575936). Enjoy! 

**[3\. Hesitant Kiss + KunTen](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18822307/chapters/44694934)** 
**[9\. Distracting Kiss + KunTen](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18822307/chapters/44695561)** 
**[2\. Early Morning Kiss + DoJae](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18822307/chapters/44695672)** 
**[5\. Can’t Let Go Yet Kiss + KunTen](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18822307/chapters/44695945)** 
**[4\. In the Moment Kiss + TenWin](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18822307/chapters/44696371)** 
**[10\. Quick, Goodbye Kiss + KunTen](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18822307/chapters/44696410)** 
**[1\. Post Break Up Kiss + TenWin](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18822307/chapters/44696509)** 
**[ 9\. Distracting Kiss + JohnWin](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18822307/chapters/44964514) ** 



	2. Hesitant Kiss + KunTen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Hesitant Kiss** \- The type of kiss where their lips touch a brush against each other's a few times, breath fanning across each other's faces as one waits for the other to make a move

Falling in love with Ten was the best _and_ worst thing to happen to Kun.

It was the best in every way Ten never failed to make Kun laugh, or when Ten would talk to him about about the endless news articles he’d absorb throughout the day. He loved watching the way Ten would dance with abandon, body twisting like a feather in the wind. He loved watching the way Ten’s brows would crease with passion.

The moments after Ten would finish dancing were the closest Kun could get to ever _feeling_ Ten. Kun was enraptured by the heat of Ten’s movements like glowing embers begging to be prodded as Ten would catch his breath. 

See, the worst of it was Kun being cursed with the gift of Death. 

Kun was mindful to never touch Ten lest he send him to an early grave. They’d gotten around it in the wintertime, bundled carefully in layers of gloves and jackets to hold hands in a stroll through the park. The most daring exchange of affection was when Ten dared to brush Kun’s hair away from his face in hot pink kitchen gloves.

Today they are sat in chairs across from each other at the table. Ten scoops a spoonful of sugar into his mug, silver clinking against the ceramic. He slurps a small sip and smacks his lips, presumably testing out the sweetness.

Kun leans forward to pick up Ten’s mug and takes a sip from the exact spot Ten had just moments before. He cherishes the sticky line of vanilla lip balm left on the rim and flicks his tongue out for another taste. He can feel Ten’s eyes on him watching his movements.

“I have an idea,” Ten says as he licks at a stray drop of tea from the spoon. He stands up from his seat, chair scraping across the linoleum and goes to rummage through the kitchen drawers.

In two strides he stops at the edge of the table armed in banana yellow kitchen gloves and a box of cling film. He unrolls a sizable amount, tears it off, and frames it before his face.

“Stand up,” Ten says. 

Kun obliges, turning his body to face Ten. Ten takes a shaky step forward, and Kun can see little puffs of fog heat up the wrap from under Ten’s nose. Kun’s wrapping his hands up in the sleeves of his sweatshirt to place on Ten’s waist. His chest aches and throbs at the closeness as Ten leans forward, their lips inches apart. Kun squeezes his eye shut, fingers trembling as he leans forward all the way. 

It’s the first time Kun’s felt the shape of Ten’s lips with his own, and his heart stutters, his nerves are shot, and his world has gone topsy-turvy. He can feel Ten hum into the sensation, lips tingling with delight, and Kun feels giddy, delirious they hadn’t tried this sooner.

Finding a new way to cheat Death had never tasted so sweet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This prompt was inspired by the classic, gone too soon TV show _Pushing Daisies_! I love the idea of being so affectionate for someone yet having the willpower to restrain from touching them. Displays of affection got really creative on the show, but nothing was more iconic than the plastic wrap kiss!
> 
> Kudos and comments greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading.
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/johntographique) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/violetpeche)


	3. Distracting Kiss + KunTen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Distracting Kiss** \- When you are competing, maybe playing video games or something, so you press kisses anywhere available; arms, nose, knees, ears, knuckles, temple, just anywhere to distract them

Somehow they ended up in the 14th arrondissement, strolling the streets of Montparnasse rather than the sprawling Jardin des Tuileries. Kun’s frustrated, frantically thumbing at the leaves of his _Paris Pratique_ , desperately trying to locate the nearest Metro station.

Ten clings to his arm and presses a sloppy, wet kiss on Kun’s cheek. “Can you _believe_ we’re in Paris, baby?”

Kun tries to shrug Ten off his shoulder, bringing the booklet closer to his face to make out the cross streets on the map. He can hardly read English, let alone French, but at the very least he can try to match the letters to the small, blue and green placards hiding on the street corners. He’s trying to will away the anxious throbbing in his chest. Ten’s laissez-faire attitude is not helping.

Ten is relentless, waves “ _bonjour_!” at every passersby and giggles in Kun’s ear. Ten pecks another quick kiss, this time against the corner of Kun’s mouth, before skipping forward a few steps as they turn down a _Boulevard Raspail_. 

“Where are you going?!” Kun shouts. He drops the _Pratique_ to his side as soon as he notices a Metro station around the corner. At this rate they’ll never make it back to the Tuileries.

Ten stops in his tracks and pulls his red baseball hat off his head to card his fingers through his hair. Ten's golden locks glisten under the late morning sun, and Kun’s stomach grumbles the instant he catches a whiff of ham and cheese crêpes being prepared at a tiny cart across the street.

“This park looks pretty,” Ten says, beckoning Kun forward to take his hand. “Let’s check it out.”

Kun tucks the _Pratique_ into his back pocket and decides to swallow down his frustration. They’re supposed to be looking at Monet’s water lilies in the L’Orangerie, but Ten’s walking him into a _cemetery_. They stroll arm in arm under the grove of maples and pagoda trees. Ten rests his head on Kun’s shoulder, bringing the top of Kun’s hand to his lips to press featherlight kisses across his knuckles.

“Sometimes it’s nice to get lost every once in a while,” Ten says. “Especially if it’s with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kun and Ten in Paris! Paris is the city of love, and there's no other place better to get lost in love than Paris. This little drabble was partly inspired by the time I stumbled into Montparnasse cemetery. It's a quaint square above the catacombs, and I remember the trees were so lovely in the summer breeze. Long time lovers Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir are buried there, and their shared grave is covered in lipstick kisses. Highly recommend visiting the burial site of this 20th century intellectual power couple!!
> 
> Kudos and comments greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading.
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/johntographique) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/violetpeche)


	4. Early Morning Kiss + DoJae

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Early Morning Kiss** \- A kiss that's a wake up call, it's barely even lips touching, more like they're kissing your chin because they're so tired in the early morning haze

Doyoung can’t remember the last time he had a proper night’s sleep. Between the lab reports, board presentations, and aiding his company partners into securing investors to fund his research, Doyoung _wishes_ he could do more than wanting to hit the pillow as soon as he gets home.

Instead, every day of the work week Doyoung comes home, loosens his tie and rolls up his sleeves to make sure dinner is on the stove and his princess gets her homework done.

It’s Saturday, or at least that’s what Doyoung can deduce based on the last time he was conscious was sometime around 9 on a Friday. Saturdays are strictly off limits for anything work-related. 

What starts to rouse Doyoung from his sleep is the feeling of his warm duvet slip off his shoulder. It’s replaced with the shadow of a figure blocking the rising sun filtering through the partially opened blinds. Doyoung nestles into his pillow further and squeezes his eyes closed. He’s not ready to wake up.

The moment Doyoung feels a hand skate down his shoulder to this forearm, he knows it’s going to be a hard battle to fight for his rightful place in Dreamland.

“No,” Doyoung whispers and rolls onto his stomach. He can feel his mouth twist into a pout.

The hand traces up Doyoung’s back with fingers stopping to trace letters on his his shoulder blade:

_W-A-K-E-U-P-S-L-E-E-P-Y-H-E-A-D_

Doyoung huffs and tries to ignore the silky landscape being mapped out on his back. “No,” he says again, this time trying to inch his body away from the touches.

He’s weakened the moment he feels the weight of a leg slip between his knees. Doyoung’s bracketed within his mountain of pillows on his side of the bed. He’s considering grabbing one of the Euro pillows to throttle away this disruption from a full 6-8 hours of pure, clean sleep.

He feels a chaste kiss press onto the soft patch of skin just behind his ear. His nose is flooded with the smell of bell peppers and freshly sliced oranges, and his stomach growls over how tempting his husband smells. Doyoung turns his head, eyes half-closed still, and shifts more onto his side to meet their lips together. It’s a quiet kiss, lost in the haze of the morning fog that’s rolling out from the street outside their window.

“Come on,” Jaehyun beckons. “Our princess made us breakfast. We gotta go eat before the eggs get cold.”

Doyoung threads his hand through a thick tuft of Jaehyun’s hair and hums, relinquishing his wishes for another hour of sleep. “Fine,” he sighs. “It’s best we don’t keep our future queen waiting.”

There will be plenty of time to lay his head down again. For now, he hops out of bed and follows Jaehyun down the stairs for a stack of homemade pancakes.


	5. Can’t Let Go Yet Kiss + KunTen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Can't Let Go Yet Kiss** \- The type of goodbye kiss wen you keep leaving quick pecks on each other's lips, but end up pulling each other back for more, which could go on for hours if one of you don't finally pull away

Kun had prepared all his life for this day. 

It was one of the first things Ten learnt about Kun from the moment they met as shy university first years squeezed onto a couch in their dormitory lounge. Ten had been nibbling on the corner of an oatmeal cookie, subtly trying to figure out how to simultaneously not chew or accidentally swallow any of the god forsaken raisins ruining the cinnamon sugary goodness. The resident advisor had everyone go around to introduce themselves by announcing _something interesting about themselves_ and what they hoped to get out of their college experience.

Ten had noticed Kun sitting upright on the right side of the lounge sofa with this shoulders back in the center of the room, chin pointed outward with his hands folded in his lap. When the circle stopped at Kun, he stopped smoothing down the ends of his sleeves, cleared his throat, and said with the clearest, softest voice: 

“My name is Qian Kun. I can fly an airplane all by myself, and one day I’m going to travel to outer space.”

In fifteen years, Ten’s watched Kun circle the earth on a commercial jet plane for five years, defend his physics dissertation, adopt three cats, ask Ten to be his to the ends of the universe, buy a home with him, and spend a rigorous two years training to become an astronaut. The day Kun found out he was accepted into the next crew of cadets to manage the ISS he bashfully told Ten it was happiest day of his life, above their wedding.

Today, Kun is heading to the space center headquarters to prepare for take-off at the end of the week. It’s the last morning Ten will have with Kun for the next nine months. Ten tries to forget all of the things that he’ll miss with Kun: a New Year’s kiss, Kun’s birthday, _his_ birthday, passing out red envelopes to their friends children for the Lunar New Year, the cherry blossoms, their annual week-long holiday to Phuket, and the summer harvest of lychee fresh from their yard. As soon as they moved into their house, Kun put in a lychee tree because it reminded him of home.

They’re sat on their couch, rising morning sun filtering through the windows. Ten has his legs tucked beneath him and the left side of his face resting on Kun’s shoulder. He concentrates on the steady rise and fall of Kun’s calm breaths in an attempt to distract himself from this morning. He’s meditating on the present, trying to savor each moment between seconds he has left with Kun on earth.

“Baby,” Ten says, hands gripping tighter around the warm mug of coffee between his palms. He’s holding it so tightly he fears the delicate porcelain will crack under the pressure. “What am I going to do without you?”

Kun pries the mug from his hands and brings a hand to cup under Ten’s chin to have him look into his eyes. For a moment Ten forgets his husband is going to be launched through the atmosphere and living on the edge of the world for nine months. Instead, he studies the years of hard work that have worn their way into the crows feet around Kun's eyes. Ten focuses on how warm, fond, and kind they still look in spite of it all.

Ten leans forward to press a quick kiss to the corner of Kun’s mouth. Kun beams, smiling through a giggle.

Kun squeezes Ten’s chin. “You’ll be fine, love.”

“You don’t know that,” Ten whines. His chest aches, and he swears he can see Kun’s eyes start to gloss over. It might only be nine months, but he can’t shake the thought of the risks of his mission.

Ten pulls Kun’s hand away, pushes himself up on his knees and moves to straddle Kun’s lap. He rests his hands on Kun’s shoulders, then rakes his fingers through the short hairs at the nape of his neck. Ten can smell the sweet maple syrup from their extravagant breakfast on Kun’s breath and relishes the weighted smile he can feel form on Kun’s face between them. They rest their foreheads together for a minute that begins to feel like it stretches endlessly. Ten gets lost in the stillness and puffs of air tickling at his cupid’s bow. Kun tilts his head up and drags his lower lip against Ten’s and pulls him into a slow, languid kiss. 

The world is silent around them. Not a birdsong filtering through the open windows, just the faint squeak of a spring as Ten shifts his weight in Kun's lap, and the gravity of the situation starts to feel weightless. The kiss turns feverish, like they’re drunk and falling in love for the the first time all over again. Ten squeezes his eyes shut, choking back a moan in the kiss and wills away the sting behind his eyes.

He pulls back suddenly, gasping for air and frantically pawing away the tears starting to fall from his eyes.

“Just look up,” Kun whispers. “Look up any time you miss me.”

Their lips brush again and Ten slumps his entire body weight against Kun, wanting nothing more than to hold onto every piece of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The angsty KunTen astronaut AU we crave. This one didn't take long, surprisingly. I had a lot of fun causing pain, hehe.
> 
> Kudos and comments greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading.
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/johntographique) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/violetpeche)


	6. In the Moment Kiss + TenWin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **In the Moment Kiss** \- Maybe it's in the middle of an argument or you just looked too damn beautiful not to kiss, but their lips were hot against yours and it felt too good to stop

“Eight!” yells the boxman.

A roar rattles the table once again. Sicheng can’t recall how long he’s been at the craps table, blocking out the pings and clinks of the chorus of slot machines singing around the casino. His left heel is starting to feel numb in his brand new pair of white leather sneakers, but his mind is buzzing with his fourth gratis high ball of gin and tonic and the pile of chips stacking up in front of him.

“This is incredible!” a lady shrieks from across the table. She’s squeezed into a strapless, skin-tight pink mini dress and has a flute of champagne pinched between her gaudy French manicure. “Honey, put more in, you fool!”

Sicheng watches the stickman slide the red dice across the table back over to him. “Roll again.”

He leans over the stained oak to snatch them from the rough patch of felt.

“ _No seven!_ ” a rowdy American tourist shouts from across the table. He sloshes his beer in the air and drops a handful of black chips behind the pass line.

“Can I get you another drink, sir?” a voice asks as Sicheng scrambles the dice in his hands. They feel like they’re on fire, like he should be getting rid of them as fast as he can and ride this high for as long as he can.

Sicheng turns his attention away from the table for a moment. “You again,” he says through a smile.

The waiter’s eyeliner looks a bit more smudged from the last time Sicheng saw him, but their warmth never waned. “Me again,” he shrugs.

“Whatever’s in these drinks is bringing me a lot of luck tonight,” Sicheng says. “What’re you putting in them?”

The waiter hides a small laugh behind his hand and Sicheng watches the light flare off a piercing dangling from his left ear. Sicheng throws the dice across the table to reveal a four and a six.

“Ten!” yells the boxman. The table screams in delight once again.

“Maybe it isn’t the drinks,” Sicheng says turning back to the waiter.

The waiter sidles up to the edge of the table, hip leaning against the wood. The stickman slides the dice in front of Sicheng again, and the American tourist is slurring something from across the table. The woman in her hot pink dress encourages her husband to throw in a couple more chips while another pair of players took their earnings to a nearby poker table.

The waiter turns to gloss over the piles of chips stacked along the edges of the table. “Then what is it?” 

“Maybe it’s you,” Sicheng says. But it’s also the gin, and the thrill of having $30,000 piled up in front of him that has him acting so bold.

What he doesn’t expect is the waiter to push up on his toes and press a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth, then takes Sicheng’s arm that’s holding the dice to press another chaste kiss to the heel of his hand. He grins, and it makes Sicheng’s stomach do backflips. 

“Don’t push your luck,” the waiter says with a wink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some context - the setting for this is in Macau, and they're gambling with Hong Kong dollars.
> 
> I definitely would love to expand this! Just thinking about Ten as a slick, seductive drink host collecting lucky gamblers off the floor into the private high rollers suites.... having a bit of fun. I don't think these two kissed enough, right?
> 
> Kudos and comments greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading.
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/johntographique) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/violetpeche)


	7. Quick, Goodbye Kiss + KunTen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Quick, Goodbye Kiss** \- It's almost late for work kisses when their lips just peck yours, like an unfinished goodbye

There was no point hiding from the Crown.

Ten rushed to the cottage as quickly as his legs could carry him to the edge of the forest. The odds of him arriving there with enough time to spare were slim, but at the very least Ten could try.

Now he’s huddled in the corner with his knees pulled to his chest. Ten can hardly breath after sprinting through the mud that’s now caked on his shins. He feels itchy, nausea bubbling at the base of his skull as he tried to catch his breath.

Next to him sits Kun, draped in his finest green silk robes with ribbons of gold woven into an elaborate pattern of beetles. Ten had given it as a present for Kun’s last birthday, and even under these circumstances with worry burrowing into the crease between his eyebrows, Kun looks just as handsome as the day Ten first laid eyes on him.

“Run away with me,” Ten pleads between pants. Each inhale is like a match to kerosene rumbling behind his ribs. “Please. Run away with me, Kun.”

Kun closes his eyes and swallows hard, a pained look pinches across his forehead. “The prophecy forbids it.”

“I don’t give a shit about the prophecy!” Ten shouts. He can feel his heart jump out of his chest. He wants nothing more than to rip it out and throw it into Kun’s hands. Kun is his everything, his past, his present, his future. “Why do you care? Why do you care _so much_ about this prophecy?”

Ten throws his head back against the wall and reaches out for Kun’s hand. Kun’s palm is warm, slender fingers long and roughened by years of grinding herbs with his mortar. 

“It is so,” Kun whispers.

“Just this once I wish you didn’t believe in the ways of the world and believed in your heart,” Ten says. He feels tears start to well up behind his eyes. “Believe in _my_ heart. It is yours, all yours.”

Kun slips his hand under Ten’s chin to look into his eyes. Ten doesn’t see defeat, just pain and years of grief wash over him.

Suddenly there is a loud bang rattling the front door that has Ten jumping out of his skin.

“On behalf of his royal highness, open your door,” a muffled, deep voice bellows from the other side of the door. “Open up, you _beast_!”

Ten hides his face into the crook of Kun’s neck. Kun smells like the earth: pine needles, damp soil after the first rain after the summer harvest, and a pile of fresh cut logs. He savors the moment, pushing away the fear that surges through his veins. He tries to trace his thoughts back to the first time they held each other, if Kun smells any different. It’s pointless now - he must cherish this for all it’s worth.

The door is kicked open and Ten can feel Kun’s hands begin to tremble as this reach for his. They grip onto each other as the guards rip through the cottage, knocking over chairs and tables in their wake. 

Ten’s heart is threatening to spill out from his throat. It’s beating so fast that he feels it throbbing in his head. He wants to say something – anything – wishes he knew exactly what to tell the royal guard to disobey his father.

“Over here!” a guard bellows. He swoops down to grab Kun by the shoulders and begins to pry him away from Ten. 

“No!” Ten shrieks, hands gripping onto Kun’s wrists so tightly he’s sure to leave bruises. “Don’t do this! Please!”

Kun kneels before him resisting the arms wrapping around this shoulders. “Ten, listen to me. Your passionate heart will lead this nation to greatness. The prophecy foresees it. Do not let this day turn your heart to stone.”

Ten pulls Kun in with his palms against his cheeks to press a hard, fierce kiss that ends too soon with the guards yanking him to his feet. They begin to lead him toward the front door.

“Remember me,” Kun says. “Remember us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> KunTen pair well with angst, huh? This one is probably my favorite of the bunch. Lots of ideas to explore in this little universe I conjured!


	8. Post Break Up Kiss + TenWin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Post Break Up Kiss** \- The kiss that catches both of you off guard, but says I miss you, I'm sorry, and please love me again all at once without any words being spoken

Sicheng tastes like briquettes of peat burning in the fireplace. It’s an intoxicating incense that’s lovely, sweet, and full of comfort. Ten presses his thumb against the corner of Sicheng’s jaw in hopes to swallow more of these memories of their Irish winter.

Now, one thing is for certain, is the weight of reluctance bearing down on the way Sicheng’s palms waver over Ten’s waist, barely grazing the thin layer of cotton, and all Ten can do is slide his hand to the back of Sicheng’s head to rake his fingers through Sicheng’s inky black hair. Ten’s fingertips are electric, harvesting static and hope of a spark once held between them. 

Ten knows the soft graze of his teeth behind Sicheng’s right ear makes his knees go weak. They discovered this the very first day they met, cheeks flushed red and chapped from the wind on the edge of Brighton Pier. Ten let Sicheng lick away the vinegar from his cone of chips at the corners of his mouth as they made out against a claw machine tucked into a dark corner of the arcade. Ten remembers them smelling like the salted air and lustful youth. It was the thrill of breaking free from the city, away from his nose buried in books, and letting a complete stranger slide a hand against the denim painted on Ten’s thigh to wrap around his waist. 

People stumble in and out of your life at different frequencies, peaks and valleys, windows opening, doors closing. After four years of making it work, of moving into a tiny flat near Brick Lane with the windowsills adorned with ferns, calatheas, spider plants, and a tiny bamboo plant next to the bottle of Fairy on the kitchen sink, it was time for the both of them to move forward. 

When Sicheng sat Ten down and announced he was moving back to China, Ten thought in the back of his mind it would be a challenge to make the whole long distance thing work. But before he could get a word in, Sicheng agreed for the both of them that it wouldn’t. Ten had to swallow down the lump in his throat and immediately start to convince himself that it wouldn’t be fair to anchor down the one person in his life he’s shown all angles to and tasted every inch of life with in his short life so far.

Even now, a part of Ten won’t stop loving Sicheng, can’t stop loving Sicheng. It’s the part that refuses to let go of the years they spent exploring each other, and have now come out the other side knowing themselves better – their wants, their needs, their wishes, their desires.

Eleven months after Ten helped Sicheng take his suitcases to Heathrow, they’re met face to face on the threadbare couch they christened the first night they moved in together. Ten’s heart is heavy, it aches. He’s missed Sicheng so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooh, yes, let's make it nostalgic!
> 
> When I received post-breakup kiss for Ten and Sicheng, I figured it'd be extra romantic if they met in Brighton and lived blissfully in love in East London... how about that?
> 
>  
> 
> Kudos and comments greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading.
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/johntographique) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/violetpeche)


	9. Distracting Kiss + JohnWin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Distracting Kiss - When you are competing, maybe playing video games or something, so you press kisses anywhere available; arms, nose, knees, ears, knuckles, temple, just anywhere to distract them**

As soon as Johnny’s fingers brush against the cold metal tucked away in his holster he feels the wet flutter of Sicheng’s lips drag against the shell of his ear.

The sensation spikes through Johnny, making all the blood rush through his veins and plummet, sink deep–away from his head, away from his heart. He can’t be fixated on these sensations right now.

“Shhhh,” Sicheng hushes against Johnny’s ear. It’s low, like the muffled whir of an ocean wave crashing along the shore outside a closed window. 

Johnny widens his stance and takes the sleek, silver handgun out of his holster. He’s had it since he joined the academy. It’s one of his most treasured assets, and even he had a cluster of wildflowers engraved into the handle as soon as it was handed over to him.

Johnny takes a deep breathe with his shoulders squared and aims for the target at the end of the range. So far today he’s had the worst luck and keeps shooting along the periphery of the target. He wants to blame it on the fact he’s at the mercy of Sicheng’s tongue, which has so beautifully made its way up the column of Johnny’s neck. As soon as the icy air hits his neck he lets out a shiver.

“Sicheng,” he whines, grip tightening around the handgun. His knuckles turn white moment he feels Sicheng’s fingers snake around his waist. Sicheng slips his hands over Johnny’s taught stomach and gently presses the heels of his palms over his diaphragm. He feels Sicheng hook his chin over his shoulder and their bodies melt together. He can’t tell if it’s his own heart that’s spiked or the throb of Sicheng’s heart against his back.

Sicheng buries his nose at the nape of Johnny’s neck, and it makes the hairs on Johnny’s arm stand up. Johnny fights the urge to holster the gun and shove Sicheng against the wall behind them. He’s driving Johnny crazy, and Johnny’s knees start to wobble as soon as he feels the scrape of Sicheng’s teeth against his skin. Johnny can’t help the quiet gasp that escape his lips. Sicheng tightens his hold around Johnny’s midsection.

Johnny unlocks the safety and takes aim, praying to god the tremble in his right arm goes away.

“Stop overthinking,” Sicheng whispers. He takes a small nibble to the shell of Johnny’s ear that immediately makes Johnny’s heart pound out of his chest. It’s the thrill of desire, of want, of being teased so slowly, but Johnny swallows down another deep inhale to steady himself. “You won’t have it this easy on the field.”

Johnny scoffs. “I also won’t have you breathing down my neck.”

“Focus,” Sicheng says low, voice rattling in his chest. His voice is deep, heavy, and Johnny instinctively tugs at the neck of his collar before adjusting his glasses and fixing both his hands on the gun to aim. “Never lose sight of the target.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Distracting kiss for the incredible sweet anon who requested this darling rarepair... this time I made it sexy. JohnWin deserve something spicy!
> 
> Kudos and comments greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading.
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/johntographique) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/violetpeche)

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading.
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/johntographique) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/violetpeche)


End file.
